


Totentanz

by Syksy



Category: Skuggserien | The Shadow Series - Maria Gripe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-09 15:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8896210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syksy/pseuds/Syksy
Summary: Living in Rosengåva is almost not like living at all.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuroraCloud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraCloud/gifts).



Rosilda often has dreams about her mother. They run together through the rose garden, in matching white dresses, or chase each other in the dark corridors, the echo of their laughter giving away any hiding places they might seek. They collapse together on the dewy grass, their long red hair tangling together, grown wild with the wind. She comes awake smiling and then finds tears in her eyes. 

She does not tell Arild about these dreams. Maybe they are too personal, a sacred thing between mother and daughter. Or maybe she simply does not wish to hear that he has them too, that they are not hers alone, not special at all.

With Arild she talks about other things. About art, and history and wishing there was something else to life. Arild confesses his fear of the outside world, of them not understanding, or being cruel, but she is fearless. It would not matter to her if they found her strange, she knows herself to be so and does not mind. She even revels in it, in her secret heart, because it makes her more like her mother.

Arild does not hate Lydia. His missing of her is untainted, and for that not as strong as Rosilda's. It is the complexity of her grief that traps her, that keeps the words locked away in her chest like ancient treasures or horrors too hideous to show the world. 

That is not say that Arild has not been hurt by Lydia's death. When he goes out with his violin to play haunting tunes to the echoes of joy gone by, he is a stranger to himself. He would like to break free, but has no notion of what that would entail, and unknown things terrify him.

So they dance their dance with the shadows of yesterday, together and apart, from day to day and year to year.


End file.
